A good friend of mine from home sent me this poem. I like it because to me it is a great reminder for any adult that there are children everywhere in the world who need our help and support. I know many people have this view of Africa being full of children who are starving and neglected, but the truth is that is not always the case and that there are many children right in the U.S. who are abused, neglected, and hungry every day. Friends and family who often tell me that I'm "saving the world" or "making such a difference", I want you to know that those of you who work with children right at home in the U.S. are making a difference as well. We as adults have a responsibility to help support children in whatever part of the world we are in.
We Have A Responsibility
We have responsibility for children who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
Who like to be tickled,
Who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
Who sneak popsicles before supper,
Who erase holes in math workbooks,
Who can never find their shoes.
And we have responsibility for those children
Who stare at photographers from behind hungry eyes
Who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
Who never “counted potatoes,”
Who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead,
Who never go to the circus
Who live in an x-rated world.
We have responsibility for children
Who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
Who sleep with the dog and bury the goldfish,
Who hug in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
Who cover themselves with band-aids and sing off-key,
Who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
Who slurp their soup.
And we have responsibility for children
Who never get dessert,
Who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
Who watch their parents watch them die,
Who can’t find any bread to steal,
Who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
Whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
Whose monsters are real.
We have responsibility for children
Who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
Who like ghost stories,
Who shove dirty clothes under their bed, and never rinse out the tub,
Who get visits from the tooth fairy,
Who don’t like to be kissed in front of the carpools,
Who squirm in church and scream on the phone,
Whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.
And we have responsibility for children
Whose nightmares come in daytime,
Who will eat anything,
Who have never seen a dentist,
Who aren’t spoiled by anybody,
Who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who live and move, but have no being.
We have responsibility for children
Who want to be carried and for those who must,
For those we never give up on and
For those who don’t get a second chance,
For those we smother, and
For those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.
By Ina Hughes
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